I love the winter Olympics. When the games are on, you can bet that I am watching. It’s been this way since I was a girl in the 80s.
Way back then, I just happened to live around the corner from the grandparents of a boy who was the object of my adolescent crush. Actually, I really liked his family too. All of the kids had names that started with A. His mother was elegant and nice. His father was very warm. As a family unit, they were perfect (at least from my perspective). Anyway…during the winter Olympics of that year (which exactly I am not sure), I would go to the grandparents house each night and watch the games with my crush and his extended family. We cheered. We ate. We debated performances (since you can do that with figure skating).
It is a memory that I cherish. And was able to relive a bit of it when I watched the opening ceremony with my family in Chicago. Now, I watch the Olympics alone. M. isn’t into them and A. is too young to get involved. But I look forward to when he is older and hope that we enjoy the games as a family, just like the Crush’s.